


you are the air my flowers breathe

by janie_tangerine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flower Crowns, Flowers, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, Idiots in Love, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Language of Flowers, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Sheith Spring Flower Exchange, Shiro (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, this got away from me if it wasn't obvious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 03:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10800867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: where the paladins are roped into making flower crowns by the circumstances. It doesn't go like any of them had planned, not that any of them had planned tomake flower crownsin the first place.





	you are the air my flowers breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Soo, this is my gift exchange for GreyZCat - I, uh, couldn't settle on two/three flowers so I figured 'let's just put in a bunch of them' and apparently I like to write stuff where people make flower crowns, which also allowed me to stuff a _lot_ of them into this, so... I really hope you enjoy it :D
> 
> Other than that: the title is from a Joni Mitchell song ~~guys I was about to name it 'if you want to form Voltron be sure to wear some flowers in your hair' be thankful I dissuaded myself~~ , the only thing belonging to me here is the plot and the OCs (and I mean, I got both OC name and planet name from online generators so xD) and many thanks to tumblr user francisperfectionbonnefoy for looking at this before I set it off into the world <3 okay I'll vaguely saunter downwards now.

“… Princess, what did they just _say_?”

Hunk sounds utterly bewildered as the tiny alien smiles _way_ too brightly at the whole lot of them, waiting for them to take in what Allura has just translated for them.

Keith can _entirely_ feel him right now, because he’s equally baffled by the request they just got.

Allura _could_ have answered, but then she turns back to the native alien – shit, Keith can’t remember the name even if she definitely introduced herself, he’ll need to ask Shiro or Pidge because _they_ have paid attention for sure – and replies something that none of them understands except maybe Pidge, and just because she’s tinkering with their instant translators.

The alien beams (which doesn’t help with how Keith is _not_ liking the direction this whole mission aftermath is going) and makes a _follow me_ motion with her pale lilac hands – they follow, because no one would dare _not_ to when Allura’s glaring at them in a way that promises pain if they botch this mission. No one is actually daring to speak, because if they did, they would have to ask about – well.

What Allura told them before.

Which Keith honestly hopes he hallucinated, same as Hunk and same as about _everyone else_ , or at least he has that exact feeling.

Well, he thinks, now that’s interesting. They’ve been fighting Zarkon for _months_ and this is the first time they might all feel the exact same way about something.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it, since that _something_ concerns –

The tiny alien stops in front of a white door – the entire palace in this planet is white, for that matter, and Keith thinks he’s getting a headache just by staring at the walls – and beckons them in.

Well, _shit_ , she brought them to a goddamned _orchard_.

Then they really understood right, _before_.

Allura cheerfully says goodbye to the alien, who takes her leave, still smiling brightly in an _extremely_ creepy way, and disappears along with her pastel-blue cloak and her delighted grin.

The moment the door closes, Hunk clears his throat again and Keith just feels thankful that he’s willing to ask _the_ question first.

“Princess, I mean no disrespect, but – could you please explain what was that whole deal about… _flower crowns_?”

Allura doesn’t seem to understand why they are _all_ baffled. “It is an old Tangean custom,” she explains. “We saved their planet and they want to thank us by hosting a feast later in the evening. The… flower crowns, as you called them, are a requirement.”

“A… requirement?” Pidge doesn’t sound too excited about _that_ , either.

“Tradition says that the honored guests shall weave their own crowns that they will wear at the feast. Not doing so would be seen as a disrespect and we surely do not want to _disrespect_ our host, _do we_?”

Only someone suicidal would dare contradict her, and of course it had to be Lance speaking up _just_ after. It’s official – that idiot _can_ be suicidal.

“But – why do _we_ have to make them?”

“Because,” Allura sighs, “it’s a way for guests to connect with local culture and they strongly believe in sharing it. I do not understand, what are you this concerned about?”

“Er,” Hunk says, “personally, that I have no clue how to make one?”

“What he just said,” Lance confirms.

“I… guess I have a clue, but I never made any either,” Pidge says.

Shiro glances at his right arm before shrugging. “I never did either, and I don’t know how I’m going to manage with _this_ , but if we have to, I guess we have to. But – I don’t know if they’ll be any good.”

“You should not worry about that. The rules do not state they have to look great, as long as you made them. Besides, I have never made one, either. How complicated can it be? We have this entire orchard at our disposal and we have tools further down the path. The sooner we start, the better.”

That tone _definitely_ left no room for arguments.

Keith doesn’t know if he should be amused or offended that no one asked _him_ whether he could actually make the damned things, but to be fair, he hasn’t brought up the topic and he hasn’t even told _Shiro_ that he actually does know how to make them, why would anyone else assume that he out of all people would have any skills in that department?

Admittedly, he hasn’t made one in years, but – at his third or fourth group home, he had lost count already, he roomed for about a month with this girl who (of course) was taken in for adoption quickly. Her name was Emily, she had actually _not_ written him off as some desperate case to ignore because he didn’t socialize well, she had red hair, green eyes and skin so pale it burned in the summer sun if she only spent thirty minutes out without protection, and she was a _pro_ at making damned flower crowns. Honestly, she had some kind of hidden talent – Keith would be surprised if he looked her up and found she hadn’t become the owner of the largest flower shop chain in Texas or _something_ – and at the beginning she was convinced that he had _the face for flower crowns_ , whatever that meant. The she actually started dragging him out of their room and to the yard _to make flower crowns_ and he learned, if only because it was nice to be around someone who actually wanted to do something _with_ him, and by the end he had become pretty damned good at it. Emily used to say he was better than her, and maybe he was, but then she was snatched by a family who saw in her everything potential host families never saw in him and he stopped going to the yard.

He hasn’t _made flower crowns_ since, but he still remembers how. He remembers it _quite_ clearly, and –

“Earth to Keith, or better, _Tangea_ to Keith!”

He startles, not relishing having been thrown out of his trip down memory lane to find himself in front of Lance shouting in his face.

“I’m _here_ , what?”

“We’re deciding how to handle this and you were some ten planets away, pay attention.”

“You wish,” Keith mumbles without putting much effort in it – after all, it’s true that he wasn’t paying attention.

 _Not that Shiro is_ , he thinks as he glances at his left, where Shiro is still looking down in despair at his right arm.

“The tools are here,” Allura declares, and – right. There are a few small tables with chairs (which at least look comfortable) in the middle of the orchard, and there are scissors and something that looks like iron wire in large quantities on each surface. “They said you may take any flower you wish.”

“Wait, _you_? Not _we_?” Pidge asks, sounding like someone who does not like where the conversation is going at all.

“ _You_ are the Paladins,” Allura smiles, “and the feast is in _your_ honor. I am required to discuss diplomatic matters with their prince, but as I told you, I have never made one of these either, so I would be of little help, don’t you think? I shall see you in the evening.”

No one tells her to _wait_ – she’s already gone, leaving them to their misery.

Well, _amazing_.

“Crap,” Shiro says, breaking a silence that was threatening to become uncomfortable, “I – I imagine that we have to – put five together as best as we can and be done with it. Since I assume that _none_ of us has any experience here… I don’t know, let’s just give it a try? How complicated can it be?”

“And what is _that_?” Hunk asks, nodding towards a book sitting in the middle of the central table. Pidge picks it up and – wrinkles her nose?

“It’s… _flower meanings_ , which are apparently something intergalactic because… uh, red roses mean the same stuff that they mean on Earth. I can’t believe this,” she sighs, shutting the book. “Well, your translators should work for that, too. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll just go cut whatever looks better.”

Right _._ Because a couple of weeks ago she was _bored_ and made them some kind of special tech glasses that translate whatever text you read with them on, except that Keith doesn’t think he’ll need that book. Emily _did_ take care of making him learn the actual _meanings_ of the damned things and he’s never quite managed to bring himself to forget them, if anything because, until Shiro, she was the only person who willingly spent some time with him and it felt like some sort of betrayal, even if it was information he was sure he’d never need in his life.

 _Whatever_. He grabs a couple of gardening scissors from one of the tables and says he’ll take a walk around the place to look for his flowers, and leaves everyone else behind. It’s not that he _wants_ to leave everyone else behind, but the least conversation is had on this topic, the better.

He hopes it doesn’t take him _hours_ to find the ones he wants, though.

\--

He’s lucky – he’s found three types that suit his needs in the span of maybe twenty minutes or so, and he brings them back to the tables, to find out… that Hunk, Pidge and Shiro are all huddled around the biggest of the two, and Lance is scowling at his picks while sitting at the other one. He wonders why for a moment, but then again five of them weren’t going to fit around one, too many people would create confusion and he has a feeling that Hunk, Pidge and Shiro just grabbed whatever looked good in a nearby bush while Lance might actually have gone searching for _specific_ flowers and came back after they did when there was no space at the large table anymore. It’s… something he would definitely do, and Keith doesn’t want to be bothered at the thought that _he_ was the only other one who did it, but honestly, since when he’s so immature that he cares about what Lance does?

He shrugs and goes to take the other seat.

He puts his flowers on the side, ignoring Lance, and proceeds to weave a bit of random greenery he picked along with the rest on the wire after measuring it around his own head and making sure it’s large enough. It’s – sort of like riding a bycicle, he decides. He hasn’t done it in years, but it’s really not hard once you get back into it, and he always had good hands when it came to handling machinery and its smaller parts, so this is really a piece of cake. He glances at Lance once in a while, noticing that he’s going at it all wrong. For one, he’s starting to wrap the flower around the wire without the leaves on the base and he’s cutting the stems too short, but he has a feeling that advice wouldn’t be well-received and honestly… no one is paying attention to him, and he’d rather keep it that way and be done with this embarrassing charade as soon as possible.

“Damn,” Hunk says from the other table, “this one’s busted.”

“Mine was never _not_ busted,” Pidge echoes.

“… This is a very bad idea,” Shiro agrees, and Keith glances over at their table. Well, yeah, Hunk’s is a mess, Pidge’s isn’t keeping itself together and Shiro’s… there’s a lot of mauled petals on the other side of the table, not that he did it voluntarily, given how saddened he looks at the sight.

Keith’s lost count of the times he wishes he could kick the ass of _every single fucking Galra scientist involved with taking Shiro’s arm_. This is just the latest to add to his list.

“Maybe we should go grab some more,” Hunk says, not sounding too convinced.

“I think we need a break,” Shiro says. “Maybe – let’s just go ask for some food, I’m starving. When we’re back our heads will be clearer. You guys want to come?”

“Nope, I have this under control!” Lance replies, keeping the crown hidden from the others. Keith rolls his eyes and keeps his own under the table, so that no one sees that he’s actually almost done with weaving the base leaves.

“I’m good, I’d rather finish first.”

“Well, then see you in a bit,” Shiro says.

“Thank you,” Hunk sighs as they leave, “I couldn’t look at those damned things any longer.”

“Me neither,” Pidge echoes in the distance, and they’re gone a moment later.

Keith looks down at his crown. Right. It’s passable and it will hold, but he should probably try it first. He brings it upwards and places it on his head – right. It fits pretty much perfectly. Now he can just add the fucking flowers and –

“Holy shit, _you knew how to make them_?”

Right. Of course, Lance would have noticed before he had time to just hide it and disappear _somewhere else_.

“Well, none of you asked me if I could,” he replies. He’s not even lying, technically.

Lance makes a face like someone who’s about to choke. “We didn’t – _excuse me_ , I wouldn’t have thought that _you_ of all people – I mean, no offense but you don’t look like –”

“Like some kind of hippie culture leftover?”

“Exactly! Wait, no, looking at you I guess the hair kinda gives it out –”

“ _Lance_ , fuck’s sake, if you have to make fun of me just be done with it now so I can finish, will you?”

“Who told you I wanted to _make fun of you_? Do you _always_ have to be on the defensive? And how did you learn anyway? I’m sure the Garrison didn’t have _flower-weaving_ classes, did it?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “No, but one of my group home roommates decided that spending one month teaching me how to do it was a good use of her time. Are you done with questions?”

For a moment, Lance looks honestly _sorry_ when he hears it, and Keith feels some kind of perverse satisfaction in it, but – fuck, that was mean. There’s a reason why he _never_ talks about his experience in the system with anyone that’s not Shiro, mainly that people always fucking look _sorry_ about it and he’s really not down with that kind of thing, but then again –

“Don’t look like a kicked puppy or _something_ , you couldn’t have known.”

“You’re just – I don’t even know _what_ you are, but – never mind.”

Lance shuts up, thankfully, and Keith decides to take it for the small blessing it is and reaches for one of the saffron meadows he picked before. He cuts a piece of the stem, leaving enough so that he can weave it inside the body of the main crown without difficulty, then wraps the wire around it and ties it delicately to the base. When he’s done, he decides that it’s definitely a decent effort. Now he just has to weave in some five other flowers and then he’s done with the fucking thing, hopefully for the last time in his life.

“You know, you _are_ good at making those,” Lance says, with the voice of someone who’s admitting it at _some_ cost but who entirely believes it.

“Thanks,” he mutters, not quite knowing how to react – since when Lance _compliments_ him anyway?

For a moment neither of them speaks, and Lance looks somewhat constipated, for _what_ Keith can’t imagine, but then –

“Doyouthinkyoucouldteachmehowtomakethose?”

“… Sorry, how many words was _that_?”

“You – I said, _you think you could teach me how to make that stuff_?”

Keith is – completely fucking floored.

“Sorry?”

“Listen, I can’t get the hang of this, _obviously_ , and neither can _they_ and we have this party in what, three hours? Four? If I have a clue of how to go at it, we can just – split the job. I can do mine and Hunk’s and you can take Pidge and Shiro’s –”

“That’s not _splitting evenly_ ,” Keith smirks.

“I don’t know, if I volunteered to make Shiro’s I think you’d have tried to maim me with those damned scissors,” Lance smirks.

“What – _what_ ,” Keith sighs, and then decides to drop it because if Lance noticed it then the last thing he wants is to discuss the topic with _him_ , never mind that… that he’s kinda right. He’d have probably done something unsavory if Lance had suggested the contrary.

“You know _what_ , never mind that you’d be faster than me. So, how does this thing fucking work?”

Thing is, Lance has a point, as much as Keith would rather not admit it out loud.

And they really would be done sooner, and they’d all wear… decently made crowns, because after all Lance _is_ a quick study when he applies himself, and it’s better than eventually having to fix _all_ of them, Keith figures.

“Right,” he says, “okay. First thing, don’t start from the flowers.” He places his own on the table. “See that before putting the flower in I weaved some leaves and random green shit around it? It gives you a base and makes it look better. Here, take some of mine, I grabbed more than I needed anyway. Just wrap them around the wire and fix them at the end, if you need one or two to stick use more wire.”

“… Ah. Right. Sounds logical.” Lance takes some of the leaves and starts wrapping them around the wire circlet, taking care to make the leaves stick out. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Just do it until it’s _all_ green. Then you can worry about the actual flowers.”

Lance… Lance _says nothing_ and actually does it without complaining. Keith can’t believe he hasn’t actually contested it or that it took _flower crowns_ to get there, but he’s not going to look at a gift horse in the mouth and hopes that it’s not the last time it happens. He weaves in his second saffron meadow while Lance works on his own – by the time he’s put in it the three he had envisioned being in the crown, Lance is done with the base and he’s actually not half-bad at this.

“Nice,” he says, figuring there’s no point in being a jerk about this. “Now, your problem is that you cut the stems too short and you tried to put them on the crown directly.”

“… That’s not how it works?”

“No.” He takes the one amaranthus flower he had grabbed before from the table, then cuts the stem leaving enough room for tying it comfortably. “You need it to be at least this long, or you can’t do _this_.” He wraps this wire around the base again, until it’s secured. “Once you’ve done that, then you decide where you want it and tie it around the main body. Preferably under the rest of the greens so it’s not visible.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Shit, it was obvious. Why didn’t we all think of it?”

Keith snorts. “Because you all decided you should stick it to the wire directly, I guess. Anyway, it’s all there is to it. I mean, I have those two left and I’m almost done.”

“… Huh. That was fast. Yeah, okay, I guess I’ll just – see if it works.”

“Be my guest.”

Keith lets him take some more sacrificial victims from his pile – it’s _all_ blue flowers, why isn’t he surprised? – and picks his last two choices from the table, a couple libernum flowers that pretty much take the whole space left. He left the others at the side and at the back for a reason.

It takes a bit more because the stem is frailer than the other flowers, but by the time he’s tied them securely, he thinks he’s done a decent job. He puts the crown on his head and it holds itself together, which is good enough – he takes it off a moment later, placing it delicately on the table, and –

“Oh, I’m _awesome_ ,” Lance cries, and Keith about shouts _what the fuck_ at him out of surprise.

“ _What_?”

“For a first try, it’s kickass,” Lance says all satisfied, looking at his own crown.

It’s an explosion of _blue_ – you can barely see the green underneath – but it’s probably the kind of shit Lance would wear without batting an eyelid.

“… See, that’s what happens when you _listen to instructions_ ,” Keith smirks, and Lance huffs but doesn’t reply, and – okay, Keith’s enjoying this more than he had thought.

“Well, I guess that seals it. Should I tell the others that they can take their time and we’ll cover it?”

“Yeah, go ahead. We should also go grab some other flowers since everything on their table is mauled beyond salvation.”

“… Right,” Lance agrees, “just see if there’s anything salvageable.”

Keith salvages some of the greenery and leaves, then pushes everything else to the side in a heap – someone will clean it later, hopefully. Then he brings both greenery and wire circlets over to their table.

“Guys,” Lance is saying as he goes about it, “just take your time, we’ve got this. Yes, me and Keith. _Yes_ , he could make them, _no_ I’m not shitting you, just come back in an hour or so. _Yes_ , I’m not fucking with you, I wouldn’t want to risk Allura’s wrath by fucking with you. Right.”

He closes the comm link, good thing Keith had his own switched off.

“I put Hunk’s on your side,” Keith says. “Guess you’re getting _his_ flowers?”

“Same as _you_ will get Pidge and Shiro’s, not that I can’t imagine that it will take you a lot longer for –”

“Shut the hell up and let’s do this,” Keith groans, and is somehow not surprised when Lance grabs the book with the flower meanings before heading for the nearest path in the bushes.

Then again, he’d be a total hypocrite if he gave Lance shit about it, since it’s not like he’s not… going to do the exact same thing, except that he doesn’t need a book to know the damned meanings.

He lets Lance go about his business while he looks for his own stuff. For Pidge, he takes laurel and a few water willow flowers if there’s the _absolute need_ to put them there and leaves it at that – he’s sure she’d enjoy something with the least possible frills.

When it comes to Shiro, though –

For a moment, he considers actually picking random flowers, but for fuck’s sake, he’s not going to chicken out in front of a damned flower crown, never mind that all of them just want to be _done_ with this damned celebration and he doubts his team even knows the proper names of half of the flowers they’re using, so Shiro’s really never going to know and if it makes Keith’s effort ultimately useless –

Well, _he_ will know.

That’s enough for him.

He walks quickly around the orchard, grabbing the choices he had in mind as he finds them – althaea, milkvetch and alstroemeria, shit, he’s _pathetic_ , isn’t he, but at least they make a nice, colorful picture, which will go well with Shiro’s black clothes, and if he never knows what it _means_ , the better.

By the time he’s back, Lance has just sat at the table and dropped an _inhumane_ quantity of yellow flowers on it.

Keith takes a moment to list them – yellow rose (which stands for a lot of things, but he thinks he has a clue of _why_ he went there since there’s at least joy and happiness in there), yellow violets ( _rural happiness_? Really?) and yellow acacia ( _secret love_ , for – Lance should be happy that Keith isn’t the person to be nosy about this kind of thing but he’s certainly not doing things halfway, is he?).

 _Wow_ , it’s almost as bad as Keith’s own, not that he’s going to share. He sits, planning to _not_ make Lance understand that he actually got what’s going on there – if Lance wants to use the damned thing as an excuse to fess up it can’t hurt, especially since it probably means he’ll be in a better mood and he’ll feel less inclined to pick dumb fights with him anyway – and starts working on Pidge’s crown. By the time he’s done – it didn’t take too long, admittedly, since laurel is a lot easier to manage and he didn’t need to actually weave fifteen flowers in it – Lance is carefully weaving in some roses. He’s halfway done. It looks like a punch in the eye. They’ll have _matching eye-punch worthy crowns_ , Keith thinks, and he almost wants to laugh hysterically because he and Shiro will have classier, more diversified ones whose meaning no one is going to know except for Keith.

 _How pathetic_ , really, he thinks, and then decides that it’s time to work on the damned thing and starts on Shiro’s crown.

He starts weaving the leaves as usual, and then decides to hell with it and does it twice so that there’s no piece of wire actually visible. Whatever, Shiro’s tall, having a tiny circlet around his head wouldn’t really work now, would it? He does it carefully, a lot more carefully than he did with his own crown, but that one just has to stay intact on its head, this one – this one should be _nice_ , and if he thinks about Shiro’s crestfallen face as he looked at the mess of petals in front of him before –

He cuts the stem of the first althea flower that comes into his line of vision with far more anger than it would have deserved.

“Do you want to murder that flower or _what_?”

Obviously, Lance noticed – he’s probably not giving out great vibes.

“Technically it was dead the moment I plucked it,” Keith deadpans.

“… You know, this is _some_ way of taking the romanticism off the entire thing, but okay. Just don’t stab yourself with those scissors.”

“I’m not planning on maiming Voltron,” Keith sighs. “Besides, _you_ shouldn’t bring up that word to make fun of me.”

“Which word?”

“ _Romanticism_ ,” Keith huffs as he finishes tying the wrap around the althea’s stem and finds a place for it in the leaves within. “I mean, are you gonna give Hunk that manual along with the crown or what? Because you’re being kinda obvious?”

“You _knew_ that, too?”

“My friend was thorough when she taught me. Also, Hunk’s not exactly dense when it comes to understanding things and even someone who was would guess what you’re aiming at with joy, rural happiness and _secret love_.”

“ _What_ – damn it, I can’t even check yours because I don’t know the fucking name of any of those flowers you chose. You’re horribly unfair.”

Keith weaves in the second althea flower. “Too bad, it’s going to have to stay a mystery.”

“Screw you. And what if I was planning to give him the manual along with the crown?” Suddenly, Lance’s voice sounds… utterly serious? Well, fuck him, _when_ have they started sharing and caring here?

“Good luck,” Keith shrugs, moving on to the milkvetch, “but from what I see you shouldn’t be too worried about your chances.”

“ _Sorry_?”

“You heard me right. And – this is the first and last time I ever tell you this and if anyone else learns I told you I promise you’ll regret it, but don’t wait that much longer.”

“I… I was planning to act on it…? I mean, you just said –”

“I meant, _do it_ and don’t chicken out. You never know what might happen before the damned _right time_ to tell someone comes, and that’s _everything_ I’m saying on the fucking topic. Got it?”

For a moment, Lance looks like someone who wants to argue, then –

“Got it. You know, you really need to unwind. Repressing that much, whatever it is, which I have a suspect or ten about but I won’t say lest you murder me with those blades, can’t be healthy.”

“Shut up and finish the damned thing,” Keith cuts him off, and – right. Lance huffs and moves on to the acacias, and Keith starts weaving in the alstroemeria blooms.

It’s not that he _likes_ Lance or anything, not yet, and he doesn’t know if he ever will, though lately he’s been tolerable, but _he_ made that dumb mistake of not telling Shiro anything before Kerberos – he said, _there’s something I need to tell you but it’s not the time, so just come back in one piece and I will_ , and Shiro had smiled and said it was a promise, and then –

 _Then_.

Then it seemed that Shiro had _died_ and then he hadn’t but in between his missing memories, Shiro never having mentioned that conversation (so maybe he forgot it) and Keith not wanting to add more issues on top of the ones Shiro obviously has, he’s never… gotten around to actually _tell_ him, and he doubts he ever will, and –

It’s his own damned fault. Never mind that he doubts Shiro reciprocates the kind of feelings Keith would very much like for him to reciprocate, and having him back and mostly in one piece is good enough. He doesn’t need anything else.

If he’s currently weaving in the crown a damned flower that apparently means _consumed by love_ , at least no one will ever know the depths of _sadness_ this entire affair is reaching.

\--

He’s done with it just in time – a minute after he’s laid it carefully on the table, they hear voices coming from nearby.

“– guys, they have some _amazing_ food here, I brought you something because we need a break from space goo once in a while, and – _holy shit,_ those are amazing!” Hunk almost drops the tray with snacks that he had been bringing along, which is… probably a compliment, Keith decides. Also, he’s mildly creeped out by seeing that the aforementioned snacks are all some variation of a _pastel_ color. Same as the skin from all the aliens he’s seen. What’s with this planet and _pastel_ colors?

“Why, _thank you_ ,” Lance says, “you owe us. Well, okay, more him than me, I guess.”

“ _What_?”

Keith _has_ to laugh a bit at the face Pidge makes – she sounds like she can’t believe it.

“I might have given him a few tips,” he says.

“But – _you could make them_?”

“I’ve known how for a long time,” Keith smirks. Okay, he’s… enjoying riling her up.

“And couldn’t you share?”

“You didn’t ask,” he says. “It was kind of fun.”

“You’re a jerk when you want to, you know that?”

“You’re telling me that when _I_ made your crown? Catch,” he says, throwing it at her. She takes it at once, and then she _looks_ at it, and –

“Oh. Wow. It’s… pretty, actually? Damn. Okay, thank you, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” He sees that Lance has already presented Hunk with his, and _he took the book with him, thank fuck_ , and Hunk is _definitely_ impressed with it – he can hear telling Lance over and over that it’s hella cool, so he figures Lance at least is going to take that advice sometime soon.

Pidge says that she’s gonna go ask if she can take a shower somewhere and disappears with the crown and Keith’s left with –

Shiro, who’s looking at him… weird?

“Uh, anything wrong?” He asks, taking Shiro’s crown from the table.

“No, I just – I kind of feel bad for assuming that you didn’t know…? I should have asked.”

Keith wants to roll his eyes, which paradoxically makes this whole business a lot easier to handle.

“Shiro, I’d have been surprised if any of you actually did. I mean, _I_ wouldn’t assume, by looking at myself.”

“Uh, can I ask how you knew or –”

Keith doesn’t even consider telling him no – he told _Lance_ , fuck’s sake. “Former group home roommate. She gave me a crash course in both crown-making and flower language. I hadn’t made any in years, but – whatever. We’re all covered. By the way, uh, this is supposed to be yours, but if there’s flowers you’d like better I can just scrap –”

He doesn’t finish the sentence – Shiro takes it from his hands, turning it over. “Keith, are you – it’s _lovely_. Of course it’s fine, I mean, given how great I was doing at it I’d have no business refusing even if I _didn’t_ like it –”

“Shiro, come on. Don’t even, it’d take me ten minutes. But – well, glad you liked it. I’ll, uh, how long until our celebration?”

“Some three hours. Why?”

Suddenly, he needs to be alone. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with Shiro, but – there’s no one else buffering, and he’s thinking of what he _didn’t_ tell him before Kerberos, and Shiro’s trying the crown on and it actually looks _good_ on him, damn it –

“Just, I think I’ll take a walk for a bit. To clear my head and shit. I’ve been sitting and weaving flowers in wire for an hour after all.”

“Oh. Of course. Take your time,” Shiro grins, and Keith just _leaves_ before the sight of it makes his heart lose beats here and there and he relents and asks Shiro if he remembers that time Keith told him he had _something to tell him_.

He’s not going to bring it up, fuck it.

He walks until he sees a bush of… he doesn’t know the fancy name, but in his fourth group home, the garden was _full_ of those pink things. Buttercups, his social worker called them. They always bloomed in May, give or take, when the weather was warmer but not _hot_ , and he liked how they smelled and he thought they were fairly pretty. He never dared pluck any because their host was very jealous of her garden and it wasn’t a risk worth getting caught, but – he liked them. For a moment, he feels homesick in a way he hasn’t been in months, and then he goes and sits down next to the damned bush.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes and he’ll leave this damned flower trap and never have to walk back in it.

He just hopes the ceremony is fast and painless because he hardly wants to stare at Shiro wearing flowers Keith _specifically picked_ on his entirely too attractive head.

Fuck this noise. Next time he hopes they save a planet with more straightforward ceremonials, for starters.

**/p>

“My friend, did _you_ make that crown?”

Shiro gasps as one of the Tangeans that welcomed them walks up to his seat – she’s not the one who briefed them before. What was the name? Seleia. Right. Their host had violet skin, she has it of a delicate yellow shade (but they have the same blue eyes common to everyone on the planet, from what he sees).

“Er, do I have to say the truth or would it mean trouble for later this evening?” He asks, sheepish, and maybe he shouldn’t but Seleia looked fairly friendly and if she asked him to prove it, he’d have failed miserably.

“Do not worry. As long as _one_ of you made them, no one will consider it a slight. We do know that not everyone is gifted with that skill, and your Princess might be a tad stricter with protocol than we are.”

Shiro laughs fondly – well, she isn’t completely wrong now, is she?

“Very well. No, one of my friends made it.”

“Hm. And, does your… _friend_ know the language of flowers?”

 _What_? She’s smiling in a way that suggests Shiro she knows something he doesn’t.

“Er, he said he did.”

“And he’s only your… _friend_?”

Shiro thinks he can hear the quote marks around that word. “… Yes?”

Seleia shakes her head and moves closer, her delicate pale yellow hands touching the sides of his crown. “Hm. Well, then he loves you. Unless the friend in question is the Green Paladin –”

“No, it’s not Pidge – wait, _sorry_?” Shiro wants to understand that she’s saying Keith loves him as a _friend_ would, but –

“My brave friend,” she says, “those flowers have _meanings_ and they do not look arranged randomly, to me.”

“They – they do not?”

“All flowers have meanings, of course” she says, “but it’s obvious when someone has chosen them without knowing and when it’s not the case. This is definitely not the case.”

“What – what do they mean?” He asks, and _why is his voice shaking_?

“Well, the alstroemeria means _loyalty_ , the althaea is _consumed by love_ and the milkvetch is _your presence softens my pains_. I am in serious doubt that he only feels _friendship for you_ ,” Seleia replies, sounding _amused_ , even, and –

What the _hell_ has she just said? Shiro is about to process that information, he _really_ is, because that’s not a thing he was expecting her to say, but then he can’t because –

“And _this_ one? Who does it belong to?” She’s nodding towards the other crown Keith left on the table.

“It’s… my friend’s, I think. Everyone else left with theirs.”

Seleia’s eyes suddenly lose their amused gleam and her stare turns… serious? What the –

“Your friend,” she says, “must have a _terrible_ opinion of himself.”

“Why? What do _those_ mean?”

She’s looking _sad_ now, as she turns the crown between her hands. “The amaranthus generally stands for _hopeless_ , the libernum means, _I die if neglected_ , and the saffron meadow is something along the lines of _my happiest days are past_.”

She puts a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, taking in his most probably crestfallen face, and gives him a sad but kind smile.

“I think,” she says, “that I shall leave you alone to consider the situation. But if I may give you some advice, I wouldn’t let him come with _those_ flowers on him this evening, or everyone will assume that he’s a very unhappy paladin.”

Shiro hears that and doesn’t, because he –

 _He had no fucking idea_.

No, that wouldn’t be true, but –

He always knew that Keith wasn’t the happiest person to be around, and he had plenty reasons to not be, but… _my happiest days are past_? And _hopeless_? The other one makes sense, actually, because Shiro can imagine why anyone with Keith’s family history (or lack of) would feel like that even if they wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but – what’s hopeless about their situation right now? And aren’t they… well, he doesn’t know if he’s _happy_ but he’s doing a worthwhile job and he wouldn’t give it up for the world, and he thought the others also might be. Then again, he doubts Keith has many happy days _past_ before Voltron, unless –

Unless –

Oh, _shit_.

Shiro _did_ remember that before he shipped off to Kerberos Keith had spontaneously hugged him _initiating it_ for the first time in the course of their friendship, and then said that there was something he had to tell Shiro after he came back. Shiro had replied promising he’d make that date, and what fucking good he made of it, but – well, Keith hadn’t mentioned it since they met again, and Shiro hadn’t brought it up both because he had his own problems to deal with (and he wishes he was done dealing with them instead of barely started) and both because he figured it was up to Keith, but –

What if Keith had just assumed he _forgot_?

And following this reasoning the happy days he’s referring to must have been Keith’s first year, before Shiro shipped and when they met and gotten to know each other and maybe even –

Before, Shiro had felt like a half-failure of a leader because he hadn’t even imagined to ask Keith if _he_ could do the job, but now he feels like a _complete_ failure. And now –

He looks at Keith’s crown – it’s smaller than his, and now that he knows what it _means_ it looks dark and sad and entirely too purple, and –

He reaches for the book with flower meanings and then promptly remembers that Lance and Hunk took it.

“Wait!”

He stands up and runs after Seleia, who was still within earshot.

“Yes?”

“I need your help,” he tells her.

“Of course. How may I be of assistance?”

“I need to – to find flowers that mean a few things.”

“Oh, I will. What do you need to know?”

Shiro tells her.

Twenty minutes later, he’s sitting at the largest of the tables, waiting for Keith to be back with his small bunch of flowers neatly set on the table.

He isn’t in a hurry, but he _really_ hopes Keith will be back soon, because it’s been a few months and he had no idea and he _needs_ to set it right, especially –

Especially since if he’s guessed right and Keith isn’t using _consumed by love_ as a metaphor, then he needs to know that when Keith said, _I have something to tell you when you’re back_ , well, Shiro might have been hoping to hear something different.

Something _very_ different.

\--

Keith’s back not long later, and when he takes in the scene before him – Shiro sitting at the table with some more materials laid out in front of him and Keith’s crown in between his hands – he _does_ look somehow surprised.

“Uh. Something wrong?”

“Maybe, and maybe not,” Shiro says, and clears his throat. “One of our Tangean friends dropped by,” he explains.

“Okay. And?”

“She might have told me what do the flowers on my head _mean._ ” He sees a bit of color drain from Keith’s cheeks, and he feels like shit about it, but – but he has to go through with this. “Then she told me what do the ones on _your_ crown mean, and _that_ was – not anything I’d like to see you thinking of yourself, but never mind that.”

“Shiro –”

“Let me finish.” He stands up, taking the crown with him and pulling another of the seats closer to his own. “Please.”

Keith swallows visibly and sits. He’s fidgety, Shiro notices – his fists are grabbing at his jacket and he’s looking everywhere else but _not_ quite at him.

Well, a few moments and he’ll turn this tide over. Hopefully.

“There are just… three things I have to say about this whole matter,” Shiro goes on. “The first is, I’m definitely wearing _my_ crown.”

Keith’s head jerks upwards towards him, as if he had been expecting anything but _that_.

“The second is, we’re definitely _not_ keeping yours,” he goes on, and –

Okay, he hates his Galra arm, he _does_ , and he wishes he’ll never have to use it again like _this_ , but admittedly the extra strength is useful when it comes to crushing the first flower crown Keith had made himself between his fingers.

“Shiro –”

“We’re _not_ , because while I sadly cannot help you with weaving it, I took the liberty of picking flowers that would be entirely more suited to both yourself and our current predicament,” Shiro says.

“You mean, you want me to –”

“By all means, re-do your crown. Just, use _these_.”

He pushes three of the flowers from the bunch he had ready on the table towards Keith and waits for him to put two and two together – he said he knew the meaning before, so Shiro’s sure that he’ll get there.

“Shiro?”

“Yes?”

“You aren’t saying – I mean, you picked these because you liked them, right?”

“They don’t look bad at all, but I asked our Tangean friend if she could tell me _what_ flowers meant the things I needed them to mean.”

“But – _plum tree flowers_?”

“Well, you told me you had something to tell me, I said I’d come back. I kept my promise. You should keep yours.”

“You – you _remember that_?”

“I remembered a while ago,” Shiro says, “but you didn’t mention it, so I figured it was best to not bring it up. And now I know I was _wrong_. However, I have a feeling that I know what you meant to tell me, and if I’m right, those other two are the answer.”

“For – shit, the double aster was – _I share your sentiments_? Shiro, you don’t mean –”

“I _entirely_ mean it, and that’s why the last one is… a thing I’d very much like to have with you, if we ever get that far. If I understood this entire deal, of course.”

Shiro doesn’t need to ask Keith to know that he’s understood exactly what he’s fishing for here. From the way he’s staring at the holly flower in front of him, Shiro knows that he’s gotten it. Then again, he had figured _domestic happiness_ was blunt enough and nothing Keith could misinterpret.

“Shiro –”

“Stop that. As your _leader_ , I think there’s something you should do before you tell me how wrong I am.”

“… Okay?”

“Make that crown. I’d help you, but I’m useless, and you said it, it’d take you ten minutes. Think about it. _Then_ we can discuss it.”

Keith visibly swallows again and nods before he grabs the wire – his fingers shake a little as he makes the base circlet, but then they grow steadier and steadier while he wraps the leaves and greenery on the base, and Shiro can only stare in awe as he finds a place for _every single one_ of the flowers he had laid out on the table. By the time it’s done, it looks – well, a lot less _purple_ and more varied than the previous one, and somehow it seems less gloomy, at least to Shiro’s eyes, but it might be his twisted perception. Who cares, that’s not the point. The point is that when Keith finally lets it be, his fingers aren’t trembling and when he looks up at Shiro he doesn’t look like he wants to bolt anymore.

“I – the thing I wanted to tell you,” Keith starts, and then he reaches out, his fingers covering Shiro’s, hands flat on the table. “Was exactly what you had imagined.”

“Good,” Shiro replies, “because I might have been hoping for it. Since _then_.”

“… Really?”

“ _Really_.” He’s not even trying to stop himself from grinning openly – no point in hiding it. “So – do you agree this would suit you a lot better than that depressing thing you came up with?”

Keith laughs, and Shiro thinks that he hadn’t seen him do it that openly in a very fucking long time and maybe he should see to it more often.

“Okay, maybe it would. I’ll just try it, I guess –”

“Wait. Let me?”

Keith _stares_ at him with those purple eyes of his that took some really lovely shade of it in the light of the two small red suns that keep this planet in their orbit, and then gives him a soft not. Shiro grabs the crown as delicately as he can, places it on Keith’s head carefully, hoping his blasted right hand doesn’t ruin anything, but it doesn’t. And – well, damn, he picked a good arrangement of flowers, on top of the meaning. White, lilac and pale pink all together look amazing on Keith, truth to be told, and it suddenly hits him that they’re standing in a garden, in some planet who knows how many light years from Earth, wearing flower crowns like in some B-movie from the seventies where everyone is traveling to Woodstock, and they’re pretty much having a _moment_ and Shiro’s just told Keith he wants the two of them to grow old together after Keith told him _Shiro’s presence softens his pains_ for the love of everything, and they did it through _flowers_ , and –

“I don’t know if this is even romcom material,” Shiro blurts, his fingers threading with Keith’s as he stands up.

“ _Romcom material_?” Keith lets Shiro pull him up to his feet, moving close enough that they could touch if they moved two inches.

“Come on, the flower crowns might be, the weirdass love declarations might be, too, but the whole thing happening in an orchard on a planet five galaxies over is a bit too much. Unless when we get back on Earth we sell someone the pitch.”

“For what, space flower crowns romcom?”

“Hey, it’s original. If it does well, we might even get royalties and you could use them to renovate that shack of yours.”

“Shiro, if that was some roundabout way of saying that we should move in there together, I have just two things to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

“First, I’d think we’d at least _kiss_ first. Second, the desert _sucks_. At least we should find a state with some fucking grass somewhere, not the desert.”

… Right. That was fair. “Both points taken. Well, we’ll see about the desert when we get back. Before then, though, I think there’s something we can do about the other issue at hand.”

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Keith blurts, and then his hands are on Shiro’s face and Shiro doesn’t know who kissed who first but their mouths are touching now, and Keith’s thumb is brushing over the scar on his nose and he’s not flinching when Shiro’s right hand touches the small of his back to bring him closer, and for one blessed moment everything feels _perfect_ , romcom material or not – 

“Oh, _finally_!”

They jump apart at the sound of Lance’s voice, which came from – from _where_?

“The hell –” Keith starts, and Shiro turns towards the sound came from along with him, and – right. It’s Lance and Hunk. Wearing the flower crowns. _Holding hands_. Okay, that was not a development he had seen coming, but –

“We walked over here a while ago. Keith, let me tell you, that was some very good advice, but how come with us it took, what, five minutes, and you’ve been there at it for _half an hour_?”

“Sorry, I told him that we should have just left you alone, but –” Hunk starts, looking mortified.

Shiro decides that while he almost never plays the leader card, he _will_ now.

“Guys, I don’t know what advice was that, but I think we’ll see each other at the celebration. _Got it_?”

“Yeah, boss. Sure. Got it. _Come on_ ,” Hunk says, dragging Lance away, and Shiro feels Keith huff more than hears him, since he has his head pushed against Shiro’s shoulder.

“He’ll _never_ let me live that down,” Keith sighs.

“What?”

“I, uh, I might have understood what he was aiming at with the crown he was making and I told him to not postpone shit when it comes to telling someone you’re in love with them or he might miss that chance, which is what I thought I had done with _you_ , and now – you heard him. Shit. I’m never being nice to him again.”

“Oh, come on, you’re just playing nicely with others, there’s nothing bad about it.” Hell, there’s just _good_ things about it, especially if they have to be a _team_ and if anything happens to _him_ , but Shiro’s… Shiro’s gonna wait until he can’t postpone it anymore before informing Keith of what he has in mind should he die or end up incapacitated or anything of the kind. It’s really not something he wants to discuss, or something that he thinks Keith would like to hear now, not when he’s smiling up at him in a way that’s… not _sweet_ , not quite, but warm, and that he’s sure no one else is at the end of when it comes to Keith.

“Yeah, well, I’d rather play nice with _you_ ,” Keith says, “and damn it, _that_ was fucking corny.”

“I don’t mind that. By the way, you didn’t miss that chance and I’ve _returned your feelings_ since before I left for Kerberos. Can you _please_ swear you’re never going to assume _your best days are past_ or whatever it was ever again?”

“I’ll – I think I can work with that,” Keith says, a bit choked, and then Shiro can’t reply because Keith’s mouth is on his again and it seems like he only cares about making up for lost time now, and – well, they still have a while before they have to go to the celebration. He can indulge in it.

As he kisses back, Shiro decides that making up for lost time is absolutely something he can do.

And oh, yes, they’re _definitely_ keeping the flower crowns.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants a full round-up of all the flowers/meanings used in this:
> 
> \- alstroemeria: loyalty  
> \- double aster: I share your sentiments  
> \- saffron meadow: my happiest days are past  
> \- plum tree: keep your promise  
> \- holly: domestic happiness  
> \- milkvetch: your presence softens my pains  
> \- althea: consumed by love  
> \- amaranthus: hopeless  
> \- libernum: I die if neglected  
> \- yellow violet: rural happiness  
> \- yellow acacia: secret love  
> \- yellow rose: happiness/joy/affection  
> \- water lily: eloquence  
> \- - laurel in theory doesn't have a meaning I particularly associated with Pidge _but_ laurel crowns are used in symbology with poets/literates/intellectuals and in my country after your graduation you're generally given one so since she's smart and it's not exactly flashy I figured it'd be good for her xD


End file.
